Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Finland and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing D'Angelo to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Khruangbin,
June Days,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David Bowie,
B.T. Express,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lindisfarne,
A Certain Ratio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Seeds,
Angry Samoans,
Bronski Beat,
Sixth Finger,
Mr. Review,
The Alarm Clocks,
Royal Trux,
Ice-T,
La Düsseldorf,
Neil Young,
The Monochrome Set,
Mandrill,
Shuggie Otis,
Ludus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Country Teasers,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fall,
Jeru the Damaja,
Outsiders,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gichy Dan,
Deakin,
John Coltrane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Thee Headcoats,
X-101,
Ultra Naté,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Traffic Nightmare,
Chrome,
Pussy Galore,
the Swans,
Jeff Mills,
Peter and Kerry,
Cluster,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grauzone,
Godley & Creme,
Flipper,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Germs,
Tres Demented,
The Gories,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.